


2018 We Write Victuuri Tuesday Prompts

by HuntressFirefall



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, writing prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-04-22 04:24:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14300730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuntressFirefall/pseuds/HuntressFirefall
Summary: I thought I would do more with this prompt series, but I'm closing it at five chapters. Thanks to those who read and subscribed. <3





	1. 4/10/18 - "This is all your fault! I can't believe I listened to you!"

“This is all your fault! I can't believe I listened to you!”

“Yuri! I'm sorry! I didn't think it would turn out like this!”

Yuri sat in front of his laptop, head in hands as the reblogs and retweets kept rolling in. Victor had convinced Yuri to allow him to post the photos on his supposedly secret personal Instagram after a lengthy discussion about how they were 'harmless' and that people would find them endearing.

“It's not like these photos are bad or anything,” Victor had said.

“Victor. Trust me. These won't stay under the radar. I might not have social media sites of my own but I know how fans scour the Internet for anything like this. You should know how it works too,” Yuri had responded.

“I do,” Victor replied. “But I have 30 followers on this account and they're all people we know. It's fine, Yuri.”

Several kisses and pleas combined with those big blue puppy-dog eyes, and Yuri eventually relented.

But _this_ had happened anyway.

The 30 followers had obeyed Victor's request in the caption of the photos to not repost them.

However... those who had notifications and saved searches for the #YuriKatsuki hashtag that Victor had added to the post... did not.

The skating fan forums were losing their minds. #YuriKatsukiPhotoLeak had been trending on Twitter for twelve hours straight. There were more than 500k notes on the Tumblr that was considered the #1 unofficial Yuri source on the Net, with the crosspost to Twitter having just as many likes and retweets, ever increasing by the minute.

Victor had locked the account and after Yuri's angry insistence, deleted the post despite the fact that it was no longer accessible. The photos had been reposted an infinite number of times now. All because of a hashtag that Victor added on impulse every time he posted a photo of Yuri.

Yuri was so mortified he finally had to shut down the computer and turn off his phone. Phichit had texted him 20 times “screaming” and asking if there were more photos like them. Chris thought he looked adorable. Mila had messaged him in all caps OMG I'M DYING!!! Yurio, of course, responded with “I didn't really need to see that, blocking this shit”.

Another hour went by with Yuri refusing to speak to Victor. The Russian was keeping track of the online bedlam, which had reached all of the skating gossip sites. The headlines were even blaming him now: “Victor Nikiforov leaks private photos of Yuri Katsuki”.

The blame of the media, he could live with. But Yuri's silence, now going on its third hour since he'd first moved to the other end of the couch, was too much.

“Yuri.”

“What.”

“How can I make this right? Tell me what I need to do.”

Yuri turned his head, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “Post an apology. On your public Instagram. Obviously there's no way to take the photos back now. But I want everyone to know that this wasn't my idea.”

“All right,” Victor said.

Victor unlocked his phone and opened Instagram, hitting the “video” option and flipping the camera around to face him, with Yuri, who was still bright red-faced and wearing an expression that could kill, just over his shoulder in the background. After a few minutes to collect his thoughts, he pressed record.

Not an hour later, the apology video had spread like wildfire. The fan discourse debating whether or not the photos should be scrubbed from the internet raged. Expressions of remorse poured in from a good amount of those who'd shared the photos. Even the Tumblr post, with close to a million notes, was taken down and an apology put in its place.

Only then did Victor really realize how much influence his status as a Living Legend had. He'd learned a very big and costly lesson. He would never doubt his husband's words again.

And, no matter how much he absolutely loved them and thought they needed to be seen by everyone because his husband was just _that_ adorable, he would never, ever, post any naked baby pictures of Yuri anywhere on the Internet again.

  
  


 


	2. 4/3/18 - "I don't think I can forgive you for this."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This prompt was actually from April 3, but at the time I couldn't think of anything for it. It's the ending of the story that began with the prompt from April 10.

It was a full day later, and the craziness of the Yuri Katsuki Baby Picture Leak was already dying down. Though the photos were still out there – with as many times as they'd been reposted even after Victor had locked the Instagram account and deleted the post, how could they not be – after Victor's apology video had gone equally viral, the frenzy had faded considerably.

Yuri was pretty sure that Chris had been conspiring with Victor, because the newest photo buzz in the skating world was a series of selfies Chris had taken of himself and posted to his Instagram that left very little to the imagination. Yuri was relieved regardless, as Chris' antics were definitely taking the focus from Yuri's admittedly far less “scandalous” photos.

Victor had been on his best behavior since the day before once he'd posted his own video. He'd put himself at Yuri's beck and call and while Yuri couldn't bring himself to be _too_ demanding, he did take advantage of it by putting Victor in charge of the household chores Yuri usually took on. One filled and emptied dishwasher, three loads of laundry and four dog walks (which were paired up with getting food because Yuri was absolutely _not_ cooking today) later, Victor had begun to wonder if he'd ever be back in his husband's good graces.

Victor had to admit he really hadn't thought the situation through. Sure, the photos were benign enough: they were the standard baby-naked-in-and-after-bath photos that just about everyone's parents probably had. Mari had sent them along to Victor on Hiroko's behalf, and Victor being Victor just went into his usual heart-eyes mode that he switched into whenever it had anything to do with Yuri, causing his judgment to be clouded even more than it usually was when it came to his husband.

But Victor was also silently beating himself up over the whole mess, because Yuri had gone a bit too quiet. He hadn't considered at all how upset Yuri could potentially be even though he'd agreed – reluctantly, he had to admit – to the reaction to the photos. Victor was now pretty sure that Yuri was overthinking everything about what had transpired in the last 24 hours, and that almost never led to anything good.

He found Yuri in the guest room where he'd set up his keyboard, having brought it back from Hasetsu after one of their visits. Seeing he was wearing headphones as he played, the sound muted as a result Victor walked in slowly, giving a wide berth so Yuri wouldn't be startled out of his skin. It wasn't long before Yuri sensed the movement and looked up, removing the headphones and watching Victor with a mix of inquiry and annoyance on his face.

“Is... there anything else you want me to do?” Victor asked carefully, the open-endedness of the question by design.

Yuri's eyes closed a bit, head tipping down to look at his hands on the keyboard. “No. You're good.”

“Okay.” Victor was having difficulty gauging the situation and opted to stay silent, not wanting to set Yuri off further. But after several more very long moments of silence between them, he finally decided to broach the subject, for better or worse.

“Yuri... they were just baby pictures... I didn't think it was a big deal... I don't... I just don't understand why you're this upset.”

“I asked you to not put my name on them, to put anything in the caption that could help people find them. And you didn't listen.”

“I... I know. I screwed that up. I should have let you look at what I wrote before I posted it.”

Yuri was silent again for what felt like another eternity before he looked back up from where his eyes had once again wandered to his hands to meet with Victor's increasingly worried gaze.

“I don’t think I can forgive you for this.”

Victor blinked in confusion while feeling a rush of adrenaline go through his body like a shot.

“I worked very hard on getting this ass in shape. And you go posting before pictures.”

It took Victor several seconds, his heart pounding in his ears, before he processed the deadpan of Yuri's tone. It was the verbal signal, every time, that Yuri was coming out of the other end of the spiral of anxiety he'd been sent into, the dry humor that had become their mutual code for the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel.

“Just promise me one thing.”

“Anything, Yuri.”

“Be more careful next time. Your over the top actions don't just affect you anymore. You have to get better at remembering that.”

Victor let out a sharp exhale of relief, feeling like his entire body was going to melt into a puddle. “I promise.”

Yuri rose then, walking over to Victor and into his husband's cautiously-offered pair of open arms, sealing the embrace with a kiss. It wasn't the worst disagreement they could have had, and would definitely not be the last. But the valuable lesson of trust Victor had learned was something he would would definitely never forget.

 


	3. 4/17/18: “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri had always dreamed of meeting his idol, international rock star and musical living legend Victor Nikiforov. But this definitely wasn't how he'd dreamed it would be.

Yuri was twelve when he saw Victor Nikiforov's first music video. The sixteen-year-old Russian was already a musical prodigy, able to play guitar and keyboards and already writing his own songs. Yuri had been taking piano lessons since he was six, but immediately begged his parents to add on guitar lessons as well. They told him as long as he passed with high marks at the end of the school year, they would let him get a guitar. Yuri never studied so hard in his life, and kept up his end of the deal.

He'd followed the young Russian's musical career since then, learning all of Victor's songs on both instruments. Because they were written and sung in English, there was the added bonus of Yuri learning English by watching Victor's videos and, later on when he got his first computer, the interviews he was able to find before the eventual advent of YouTube, where a wealth of Victor Nikiforov video from live performances to interviews from around the world, became his megafan dream realized.

By the time he was ready to go off to college, Yuri had decided to put his skills in music and English to good use, applying and getting accepted to a prestigious music school in Detroit, Michigan. It was there he met his roommate, Phichit Chulanont of Thailand who, in a stroke of luck, was also a huge Victor fan. They had bonded over their mutual love of the international music superstar and within that, had become as close as brothers. Now they'd both graduated, and Phichit had gotten a job with a Japanese record company after Yuri's internship there had turned into a full-time job and he'd put in a glowing reference for his friend. Both were essentially assistants to the bigwigs in the office, but were soaking up everything they could about the music industry while working on their own music together in their free time.

Yuri had just booted up his computer for the day and had logged into his schedule. The system was slow as usual, so while the iCal loaded he ran to get his coffee, expecting this to be just like any other day: Open his boss' mail and weed out the non-important issues, put together their schedule for the day, sit in on meetings and take notes, and catalog all the music demo submissions that came in for his boss in the A&R department to listen to. As he returned to his desk, he noticed something on the schedule for the day in red letters, which was not of the norm; even more unusual was that Phichit was standing at his desk rather than in his own cubicle on the other side of the aisle.

“Yuri. Yuri. Oh my god. Look at the schedule for today. _Look at it,”_ Phichit said. Yuri was almost positive his friend's hands were shaking. He set his coffee mug down, then leaned in to read the bright red Japanese kanji that filled the entire square for the day's events, and sat down hard in his chair.

_12:00: Contract negotiation with Victor Nikiforov. Prepare to impress, client is undecided._

Each assistant had a notation next to their name listing their duties for this extremely important meeting. Phichit, being the newer hire, was marked as an “observer for training purposes”. Yuri then found his name.

_**Yuri:** Compile and present all data via PowerPoint presentation regarding successful sales with our Russian contracted artists to Mr. Nikiforov._

“You. Have to convince _Victor Nikiforov_ that our label is the best one for Russian artists to distribute their work in Japan,” Phichit said, his tone in awe.

Yuri felt the panic rising in his chest. It was 8:00 am. He had exactly four hours to compile all of this data and create a PowerPoint presentation to then give to his musical idol. As in, speak to him. Sell the biggest international rock star in the world on signing a contract to distribute his music in Japan with their label.

He'd always dreamed of meeting Victor. But most certainly not like this.

“You can do it Yuri! You know they picked you because you totally shine for presentations. You've helped to land four artists for them already,” Phichit said.

“But those were Japanese artists, newcomers who had a few labels bidding for them,” Yuri said. “This...”

“Just turn on your charm,” Phichit grinned. “He won't be able to resist.” And with that, Yuri's best friend patted him on the shoulder and left him to his work.

The presentation wasn't the problem. Yuri could do those in his sleep; he hadn't aced his minor in Music Business Studies for nothing. But he had to look the man whom he'd idolized and dreamed about (well okay, fantasized about) right in the eyes and totally sell him on this contract. Aside from the fact that it would be a _huge_ get for him and would help him move up in the A &R department for sure... it was _Victor Fucking Nikiforov_. It was all coming full circle. The English that he'd learned in part from Victor's videos and interviews would now help him communicate with his idol. The man who had sparked his love of music and the business itself was now the one who would be the ultimate test of his skills.

_I have to win the gold today,_ he thought to himself.  _Nothing less will do._

  
  


** 12:00 PM, Main Conference Room **

Everyone who had been listed on the schedule was required to be present in the room an hour before for a pre-game meeting, where to Yuri's relief they'd done a dry run of their whole sales pitch, including Yuri's presentation. His boss had complimented him on his impeccable flair and was completely happy with the package Yuri had put together.

Two minutes before noon, voices speaking in Japanese- and Russian-accented English filled the hallway, drawing closer. The president of the record company and his assistant entered first, followed by the Russian manager and agent for their star attraction.

When Victor entered the room, it was nothing like Yuri had expected; the kick Yuri felt at his chair told him Phichit was just as surprised. The Russian musical living legend was clad very informally, in skin-tight jeans and a flowing, paisley-patterned silk shirt open halfway down his chest upon which several layers of sparkling chains and beaded necklaces laid. Sparkling blue eyes were offset by his trademark swoop of silver bangs, his hair now cropped short after many years of long silver tresses that spilled to his waist (Yuri had been devastated when he'd seen those first photos after he'd cut it off, but had to admit Victor looked amazing now). He'd expected an air of haughtiness, but Victor entered silently, quietly saying hello with a smile and shaking hands with Yuri's boss and the president of the company and offering a cheery “Good Morning!” in phonetic Japanese, which sounded quite rehearsed but the effort was clearly made to impress.

Victor sat down at the opposite end of the 12-person table in full view of the screen where the label president and Yuri's boss, the head of the A&R division, both proceeded to make their case. Once his boss was through, he then introduced Yuri. Phichit gave his friend a wink as he rose; Yuri then turned to face Victor...

...who had leaned forward in his seat, eyebrows raised with more interest than he'd shown for the entire presentation.  _ At least he's paying attention, _ Yuri thought to himself. He was glad he'd kept a spare suit at the office that was more formal than his day to day ones; he'd hurried to the men's room to slick his hair back, regretting not having time to put in his contacts that morning as he worried about his somewhat nerdy, blue-framed glasses, at which Phichit had reassured him he looked fabulous.

Discreetly taking a deep breath, he then smiled and bowed politely. “Good afternoon, Mr. Nikiforov. My name is Katsuki Yuri, and I am honored to make your acquaintance. I shall present today statistics related to our success in distributing Russian musicians' work in Japan, for your consideration,” he began.

Yuri almost lost his nerve as those sparkling blue eyes locked with his, those luscious lips that formed a heart-shape whenever the Russian smiled curving into an attentive smirk.

“By all means, please continue,” Victor said, his smile widening. Every executive in the room was taken aback, as it was the first words the superstar had spoken since the meeting had begun. Yuri gave one more bow, and began.

  
  


The hour-long meeting came to a close with Victor's management and agent promising a final decision by that time tomorrow. As the assembled group began to file out of the room Victor stood at the door, thanking each of the staff for their time. Yuri walked behind his boss, clutching his laptop and feeling the nerves rising up once again. Going into presentation autopilot was easy. This... not so much. When they got to the door, Yuri's boss chatted in English with Victor as Yuri stayed back a respectful few paces, waiting for his turn.

“I will say that my favorite part of this presentation was that of your assistant Yuri,” Victor said to Yuri's boss. “The statistics were quite compelling and very complete, and presented in a very appealing way. I – oh, there you are.”

Victor extended a hand to Yuri with that heart-shaped, megawatt smile.

  
  


“Yuri! Are you awake? Can you hear me?”

Yuri opened his eyes, not really sure where he was for a moment. As his focus returned he realized Phichit was looking down on him along with his boss, concern on their faces. He then realized someone was holding him as they knelt on the floor as if they'd broken his fall. He blinked and looked up... and found himself face to face with Victor Nikiforov.

“What... what happened?” Yuri asked, eyes snapping wide open, coherency returning; he would have bolted upright if Victor hadn't had his arms wrapped around him tightly, one hand cradling the back of Yuri's head.

“You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes,” Victor said with that same megawatt grin. “But I'm glad you're all right.”

Victor looked up at both Yuri's boss, who had been joined by the president of the label who was also looking down in concern, gracing both businessmen with the most fetching, charismatic smile he'd flashed yet that day.

“I think I am quite taken with this label,” Victor said. “I don't think there's a need to wait another day. I'll sign the contract this afternoon, with one condition.”

“Anything, Mr. Nikiforov,” the president said. “What is it you wish?”

“I'd like to make sure Yuri handles my account. He's obviously a huge fan, so I think he'll take the best care of things. And he shall be my personal contact as well.”

Yuri blinked, eyes going wide. “But... I'm just...”

“We'll work on your promotion today,” Yuri's boss said, cutting in as respectfully as he could muster while hiding his complete surprise. “You will handle Mr. Nikiforov's account exclusively.”

Victor grinned, that heart-shaped smile lighting up the room as he gave Yuri a squeeze, turning to lock those gorgeous blue eyes with his. Yuri felt his face flushing bright red; above him Phichit was barely containing his squeal of glee while the executives in their suits looked on with eyebrows raised.

“Perfect,” Victor replied. “Hello Yuri. Starting today, I am your client. I look forward to a long and beautiful relationship with you.”

 


	4. 4/24/18 - "You shouldn't have heard that."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in the canon universe: Some conjecture re: events before the GPF long program and during the banquet.

“You did _what?”_

“I know... it was impulsive but... it felt right.”

“Yuri. Why on earth would you give him a _ring_? Let alone one that is part of a matching set? And then he gets his hopes up, thinks he finally got through your thick skull and realized what he's been trying to put across to you for _months_... and then you tell him you want to _end it?_ ”

Mari sat on Minako's bed facing Yuri, who had come to her room with his face bright red and tear-stained. She was happy she'd gone with her gut and not stayed out with Minako at the bar, and even more happy that she was here for this, one of Yuri's classic panic modes that happened when he'd gotten in too deep.

“I... I saw the way he was watching the competition after I skated. I could see it in his eyes. He wants to be back out there more than anything. And if I keep skating, he won't. He'll stay retired because of me, to keep coaching me, but will he be doing it for me, or living vicariously through me because he wants to be out there too? If he stays out even one more season, it will be way harder for him to come back. He's been practicing like he's still competing, he's said he's in the best shape he's ever been because he hasn't been pounding his body in competition. But JJ's super close to landing the quad loop and Victor has only done it in exhibition, never competition. I've seen him practice it but he hasn't landed it clean and I don't know if he ever will. If he stays out one more season, he'll miss his last chance at an Olympics, and JJ and Otabek and maybe even Phichit will pass him by with harder quads.”

“And you'll pass him by too,” Mari added. “Didn't he say something about wanting you to try the quad loop?”

Yuri sighed hard. “Yeah he did. He thinks I still have the stamina to do it even though it's really late to start trying it now as far as my age...”

“And if you pass him by, he won't come back at all. That's what you're afraid of isn't it?” Mari asked.

“It will be my fault if he doesn't come back,” Yuri said, staring at the floor. “And I'll always be the skater that sucked the life out of the Living Legend.”

“I would watch how you phrase that all things considered,” Mari said, attempting to weave some levity into the situation.

“Mari!” Yuri responded sharply; she backed off immediately in response. It was one of _those_ states, the ones where Yuri was so on edge he lashed out when pushed too far.

“You do realize that if you retire and he does come back, he'll go back to Russia, right?” Mari asked after a bit of silence. She watched Yuri as he stayed quiet, back to staring at the floor, the silence hovering over them both for several more long moments before it was broken by his soft, choked sob.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Will you go with him?”

Yuri looked up at her then, the tears slipping down his cheeks. “He probably won't want me to after this.”

Mari sighed heavily. “True. But he might if you finally tell him that it's not just about the skating anymore. He's obviously blunt and direct with words and you're... not. He's obviously not realizing that he should be reading between the lines here. If you don't open your mouth, you're going to lose him. And you'll watch him skate next season from afar regretting not telling him how you felt. You'll go back to how it was before, Living Legend and Biggest Fan, except this time, if you don't speak up, you'll be wondering for the rest of your life what could have been... and so will he.”

  
  


  
  


The banquet had turned rather lively, though certainly not as much as it had the year before. Yuri was being much more careful about his champagne consumption this year even if Victor was keeping track of his own a bit less. With Victor's announcement of his return to competition Yuri had been spurred to return as well, the chance to realize his dream of competing on the same ice as Victor too much to turn away from. The tension was finally broken between them, the surprise duet they'd planned, then scrapped when things went awry, then ended up skating for the exhibition sealing their bond to each other that much more.

Yuri had lost track of Victor when he'd gotten caught up in chatting with Phichit and was now seeking out the Russian, whom he had spotted talking with Chris. Yuri tried to sneak up, hiding behind various bodies in the crowd as he drew closer. Victor's back was to him, Chris watching the milling crowd as he listened to his longtime friend who seemed to be rambling a bit, something he and Yuri both had in common with a bit of alcohol in their systems.

“...don't know how I'm going to do it. I really thought he was going to retire. I had already told Yakov so now I have to stay in or he'll kill me. But I'm worried about it now.”

Yuri had caught the tail end of Victor's words as he'd come up behind him. If he'd been sober, he'd have been nervous but would have asked what exactly Victor meant. But in his mildly inebriated state his emotions were closer to the surface, and the instinct to flee until the anxiety passed overwhelmed him. He was about to bolt when he saw Chris' eyes go wide as they fixated on him, the slightly taller man seeing Yuri behind Victor's shoulders. Victor knew immediately what was happening and whirled around, a bit unsteady on his own feet from his fourth glass of champagne to see Yuri turning to run out the door and reached out just in time to grip his forearm.

“Yuri! Wait! Listen to me! You shouldn't have heard that!”

“Why?”

Victor pulled him close, wrapping an arm firmly around Yuri's waist and leading him to the nearest set of double doors that led out to the hallway from the banquet room. Thankfully, no one was about, the ornately-designed gold scrollwork that framed the red walls and massive crystal chandelier the only witness to the conversation.

“If this is going to screw things up for you, if it's going to cause you to fail, then I'll retire after all,” Yuri said. “I don't want to ruin this for you!”

“You won't, okay?” Victor replied, desperation in his tone. “I just don't know how I'm going to manage it all yet. It's only been a day. There's a lot to figure out, not just that. But we can do that together. We'll figure this all out together. I don't care if I win anymore, I have all I need now. I just want to go back and skate because I want to, because I enjoy it, because I have the passion back. If I win, I win. If I lose, I lose. All this is is another challenge, but I'm up for it. Are you?”

Victor saw that same frightened, doe-eyed expression Yuri had worn many times when he was panicking over the unknown. He'd seen it less and less during the season as Yuri had grown into his own new strength and confidence on the ice, but it wasn't about that now.

“Neither of us have ever been through this,” Victor said softly. “I'm as scared as you are. Scared I'm going to fuck up again, scare you off. That all of this will come crashing down and no matter how hard I fight, I'll still lose you somehow. But I don't want that to happen. It's not going to be perfect. _We're_ not going to be perfect. But rough edges that get smoothed out with time aren't a bad thing... and better than leaving the broken pieces to cut you open again when you least expect it.”

That trembling lip was the one thing that always told Victor that Yuri was cracking, that his “I'm strong, I'm fine, really I am!!!” facade was falling apart because he'd found the right words to get through to him. The tears welled up just like that time in the parking garage, the first time he'd seen Yuri cry. After that, Yuri hadn't been afraid to let his emotions show in front of Victor; Victor just had to chip away with words until the right ones cracked the shell. They both broke down then, falling into each other's arms and sobbing, the emotions of the last week all finally catching up to them both.

“I'll take that as a yes,” Victor said softly as Yuri buried his face in his shoulder, then nodded and squeezed him tightly. As they stood together, Yuri's back pressed to the wall, Victor looked up and made note of the time as shown by the ornate clock on the wall.

“It's late. The party's probably winding down anyway,” he murmured into Yuri's hair. “Let's go get some sleep. We have an early flight back home tomorrow.”

Yuri tipped his face up to Victor then, and Victor could tell exactly what Yuri was about to say; he stopped it with a kiss.

“No sorry,” he said. “We're in this together. We're both going to stumble. But we'll be okay.”

And Victor was finally able to breathe as he saw Yuri smile softly.

“Yes,” Yuri said. “We will.”

 


	5. 5/8/18 - "You're completely ridiculous. I can't believe I find you attractive."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makkachin provides solid proof that dogs can indeed be a viable substitute for having a child, with unfortunate but hilarious results.

“Makka! Come! Don't go over there! Stay! _Stay!”_

Yuri was seriously regretting offering to take Makkachin for his afternoon walk, even though Victor had been so exhausted from practice that he really needed the rest. Thanks to his current situation, Yuri had immediately remembered that the big ball of rust-colored fluff was just like a human child who tested the limits of how much they could get away with when anyone outside of their master was their caretaker.

As such, their walk in the dog park had gone completely awry when Makka had seen the squirrel. Whenever they walked him together all it took was one gruff command from Victor in Russian and Makka would listen without question to whatever he told him to do. Today Yuri had learned that no amount of mastering said Russian dog commands would help when not spoken by the person Makka considered his alpha male. Instead, as Yuri pulled back on the leash and cried “heel!” in Russian, English and Japanese, Makka got more wound up and finally pulled hard enough that Yuri was currently nursing brush-burned palms from the leash pulling through hands that had lost their grip, and aching kneecaps that would likely be bruised from losing his balance and falling down hard on the concrete.

Right now though, Yuri was much more concerned with where Makka had gone. The squirrel had taken off and spiraled up the trunk of a large tree that was sitting right near the edge of a dip in the park's grounds that had collected water and mud from the previous few days of rain. Hoping to avoid the stink of wet, muddy dog and the inevitable circus of bathing the animal Yuri approached cautiously, hoping Makka would stay consumed with watching the squirrel bounce around in the branches above, front paws planted against the trunk and tail wagging furiously as he whimpered, long enough for Yuri to secure a firm grip on the leash. Five steps... four steps... three... two... one... all at once Yuri grabbed Makka's collar, holding onto the dog as he gathered up the leash once again.

“Got you,” he said through a relieved sigh. “Come on, we're going home.”

Makka might as well have been a marble statue mounted into the ground, paws remaining firmly against the trunk as he continued to watch the squirrel and whimper plaintively.

“Makka. _Come,”_ Yuri said. “ Priyekhat'!”

The squirrel came down a few branches and Makka began to bark, still ignoring Yuri's commands.

“Do you want a biscuit?” he offered, tugging the leash again, still without cooperation.

The stalemate continued, with Yuri about to pull out his phone and call Victor as a last resort, when the rustle of leaves and a scratchy scrabbling on the other side of the trunk signaled the creature trying to make its escape. Makka began to bark frantically and Yuri held on to the collar and leash for dear life, trying to avoid another chase across the park. The dog's barking riled up a few others nearby and Yuri could feel annoyed eyes on him (whether there actually were or not) as he failed to calm the dog down.

The squirrel took a flying leap and hit the ground running, circling back the way it had come. Makka twisted and leaped backward to follow –

Yuri saw the mass of rusty shag bearing down on him, and knew he'd lost this battle.

  
  


  
  


“Yuri? What is it, what's wrong? I can barely hear you.”

“Just –ome downst—rs please. I'm okay I just nee-- ome help here.”

Victor had been awakened from his nap by Yuri's phone call, the reception muffled and cutting out. Despite Yuri's assurance that he was all right Victor was still concerned, tossing on sweats and a t-shirt before heading downstairs to the backyard of the apartment complex as Yuri had requested.

He didn't want to burst out laughing. He really, really didn't. But when he opened the doors and stepped out to find his fiancé and beloved pet covered in mud from head to toe – even one lens of Yuri's glasses had been rendered useless by a coating of grime – he couldn't contain himself, his words mixed in with breathy guffaws.

“W—hat on earth – oh my _god!_ What happened??”

“Your dog doesn't listen to me,” Yuri said, his tone clearly unamused by Victor's reaction as he recounted the creature's disobedience. Victor proceeded to admonish the dog in sharp Russian phrases, at which Makka immediately laid down and rested chin on paws, whining softly.

“You should have just let him go. He would have come back eventually, they have the borders of the park fenced in. He wasn't going to escape,” Victor said, still trying not to laugh as he walked up to Yuri, who was sporting an unintentional Dragonball-esque spiked hairdo molded by a thorough soaking of mud. He reached and took off Yuri's glasses, leaning in to smirk into the brown eyes that were currently glittering with anger and embarrassment. He was certain Yuri was bright red under the dirt caked onto his face.

“Well at least you got a free facial mud mask out of the deal,” Victor teased.

“Shut up,” Yuri growled.

“Yuuurrriiiii,” Victor smiled, blue eyes sparkling.

“You’re completely ridiculous. I can’t believe I find you attractive right now when I'm so pissed off I could slap the smug off your face,” Yuri snapped.

“Well I _am_ irresistible, at least that's what you've told me,” Victor smirked with a wink. “If it helps at all, you're completely adorable even covered in mud and smelling like... nevermind.”

“Just go and get the garden hose from maintenance,” Yuri said, his tone exasperated now. “We can't come into the apartment like this.”

Victor knew Yuri had reached the limit of his patience. “All right, all right.”

“By the way, I need to go get a new phone.” He pulled the sorry-looking iPhone out of his pocket, caked with mud and the screen cracked.

“Ah, I was wondering why I couldn't hear you very well.” Victor walked back over to Yuri, leaning in to give him a peck on the lips, which made up some of the five percent of his face that wasn't filthy.

“I'll pay for it,” Victor smiled. “And while I love you for wanting to take care of me and help, I think we'll stick to me walking the dog.”

And just like that, despite the Very Bad Ending to the day, Yuri found all the stress ebbing away because of that smile – the one that he never failed to be attracted to, no matter what.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I would be doing more of these prompts, but it just hasn't panned out and this is the final one. Thanks for reading. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Find me @AslanKatsuki on Twitter and @HuntressFirefall on Tumblr!


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